Fashion Forecast 1828, Part 1

What was the fashionable miss wearing in the first half of 1828?

This Ball Dress from January Ackermann’s Repository amuses me a little as the three large borders of the skirt feature ornaments that look like the “yo-yo” puffs that were once popular for quilts and other crafts. Though the illustration doesn’t quite do it justice, there’s a backing of black satin behind them according to the accompanying text, which must have made this dress quite striking. Also notable is the “zephyr” cape, a sort of flounce around the neckline, and the cone-shaped hairstyle: 

This is a very cozy-looking Promenade Dress, slightly military in appearance with the black trim and brass buttons at hem and cuffs, though the blue and red hat and pale green gloves don’t really seem to match. Note the leg-o-mutton sleeves (called in this period “gigot” sleeves) that we started seeing last year...and still those enormous muffs that we’ve seen for nearly twenty years now—some fashions never die! (February, Ackermann’s Repository):

Also from February’s Ackermann’s in this understated Evening Dress, with a white overskirt trimmed with two deep ruffles and red trim to match the deeply pointed bodice, gauze oversleeves covering the long sleeves as well as curious little shelf-like epaulettes at the shoulders. Her gloves appear to have red floral embroidery on the backs of the hands, and her headdress reminds me of a chef's toque, a tiara with a fabric pouf inside:

Another white dress, but this Dinner Dress is somewhat less restrained! The large bouffant ruffle at the hem is topped by a row of large bow encircling the skirt; there’s a belt of what looks like heavy embroidery, and sleeves and a zephyr cape similar to the first image. And that hat!—perhaps an overgrown turban in pink, trimmed with darker magenta ribbons. Striking, perhaps, but nothing I’d wish to wear for an entire evening! (March, Ackermann’s Repository):

I’m pleased that I have the complete description for this Ball Dress, as it refers back to an incident we already know: “White tulle dress over a Feodore blue satin slip; the waist is long, and pointed at the back and front, and bound with gold lace: the stomacher extends to the top of the shoulder, where it terminates in an obtuse angle, projecting over the sleeves, and united to an angular cape, that decorates the back: a branch of white Persian roses spreads over the front, and gives the stomacher an elegant appearance: it is terminated with a rosaceous ornament of rubies set in gold. The sleeves are short and full, and kept out by the stiffened sleeves of the slip. The skirt is made equally full all round, bound with white satin, open in front, but united at regular distances by five rosaceous ruby clasps set in gold: branches of white Persian roses form its rich and delicate border: it is a quarter of a yard shorter than the slip, which is terminated by a blue satin rouleau. The hair is parted in front, dressed in large bows,and adorned with papilionaceous bows of blue and gold tissue ribbon. White kid gloves: medallion bracelets outside. Ear-rings a la Flamande; gold necklace, with a diamond-shape locket in front; gauze scarf; white satin shoes." Note the reference to “Feodore blue”—Feodore being the older half-sister of Princess Victoria, who was of social prominence in 1827 and 1828. And the tongue-twister “papilionaceous” simply means “butterfly-shaped”! (March, Ackermann’s Repository):

Here’s a delightfully spring-like Carriage Costume from April Ackermann’s, in lilac with a profusion of trim—double flounces at the hem, sleeves en gigot with what looks like slashes and puffs of fabric drawn through (very Tudor!) and a deep double van dyke lace collar with a small, upstanding capelet collar. A lace headdress tied under the chin and an unusual wheel-shaped reticule decorated with gold tassels finish this outfit:

Well...this next Evening Dress leaves me at a little loss for words, though upholstery is what springs first to mind! Noteworthy, however, is the print fabric—not something we’ve seen very often in these fashion plates. Rosettes decorate the deep gathered hem and the gauze oversleeves, and the layered capelet over the shoulders echoes the ones in January and March’s dresses. Very--um...striking! (April, Ackermann’s Repository):

And to close with, we have a Morning Dress from June’s Ackermann’s with rather unusual sleeves: look closely, and you’ll see that there are sort of false sleeves lined in pink hanging from the shoulders behind the real (en gigot) ones, similar to the false sleeves that were all the rage in the medieval period! Asymmetrical ornamentation up the skirt, a deep pointed bodice, and broad lace collar make up the rest of this dress. The large hat almost deserves its own paragraph, with its broad brim and fancy ribbon trim:

What do you think of the fashions of the first half of 1828?

Queen Victoria’s Big Sister

We’ve talked a lot in previous posts about Queen Victoria’s children, and now her grandchildren. But it’s easy to forget that she had other close family members who weren’t descendents: the Queen actually had a half-brother and sister. They were much older than their little half-sister and did not live in England. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t play an important role in the Queen’s life…especially her sister, Feodore.

As you may recall from posts on the Great Matrimonial Race of 1818, King George III’s sons had to marry quickly in order to provide an heir to the throne. Edward, Duke of Kent, found his bride in the widowed Princess of Leiningen, Victoire. Victoire had two children from her previous marriage: a son, Charles, and a daughter—Anna Feodora Auguste Charlotte Wilhelmine, usually known as Feodore.

Feodore was born on December 7, 1807, the second child of Prince Emich Charles, at her father’s pocket-handkerchief-sized principality around the town of Amorbach, some fifty or so miles south of Frankfurt. Much older than Feodora’s mother, he died when his daughter was only seven. But in 1818, the little girl gained a new step-father, and in April 1819 was whisked away to England, where one month later her baby sister was born.

Feodore seems to have settled happily enough into her new home, learning English rapidly. A governess was found for her in the form of a Fraulein Lehzen (who is perhaps better known as her sister’s governess), and the little family settled down in Kensington Palace after the Duke of Kent’s sudden death from pneumonia only eight months after baby Victoria’s arrival. Baby Victoria was the center of the household, and Feodore adored her plump, cheerful little sister.

But as her teen years came on, she was less content with the highly circumscribed life they led: “When I look back upon those years, which ought to have been the happiest of my life, from fourteen to twenty, I cannot help pitying myself. Not to have enjoyed the pleasures of youth is nothing, but to have been deprived of all intercourse, and not one cheerful thought in that dismal existence of ours was very hard,” she wrote to Victoria decades later. Feodore would have loved to mingle in society but her mother, the Duchess of Kent, loathed King George IV and his profligate court.

The result, of course, was that Feodore rebelled. She conducted a secret flirtation with the son of one of the King’s brothers which was quickly quashed, but a bigger flirt soon occupied her attention—no less a person than the king himself, who paid the pretty nineteen-year-old a great deal of attention on a rare visit of the Kensington family to court—so much attention, in fact, that rumors started to fly that he was considering remarriage—to Feodore. The Duchess of Kent had no intention of seeing one daughter’s right to the throne endangered by her other, so Feodore was packed off to Germany to visit family. The following year, when the rumors hadn’t died away, the Duchess hastily a marriage to a man Feodore had met during her visit to Germany: Prince Ernest of Hohenlohe-Langenburg. The King was gracious enough to agree to give the bride away at their wedding in February 1828 (though in the end he sent his younger brother William to do the task).

The two sisters were desolated by their separation, and soon became faithful correspondents. Unfortunately, though Feodore became fond of her rather older husband (he was her senior by twelve years), married life was not easy. There was little money, and their home, Schloss Langenburg, was large, drafty, and very uncomfortable. Six children were eventually born to the couple; Feodore brought two of them to visit their little aunt in England in 1834. When the little aunt became Queen Victoria in the wee hours of June 20, 1837, one of her first acts that morning was to send Feodore a note assuring her of her undying affection. She also paid Feodore’s way whenever she was able to visit England.

Of Feodore’s children, her eldest son was something of a disappointment, renouncing his throne on the death of Prince Ernest in order to marry a village girl; second son Herman instead became the next Prince of Hohenlohe-Langenbach. Youngest son Victor entered the British navy and served all his life, including during the Crimean War. Feodore’s daughters were frequent visitors to England, where they spent a great deal of time with their cousins; the eldest died young but the second, Adelaide, was proposed to by the new French Emperor Napoleon III but refused him, marrying instead into another German ducal family (and eventually becoming mother-in-law to Kaiser Wilhelm II), as did her younger sister.

Feodore and Victoria remained close all their lives, corresponding frequently and visiting whenever possible. The two shared widowhood together, both losing their husbands within a year of each other; and when Feodore died in 1872, she left Victoria a farewell letter which read in part, “…I can never thank you enough for all you have done for me, for your great love and tender affection. These feelings cannot die; they must and will live on with my soul—till we meet again, never more to be separated—and you will not forget.”